


It's okay, it's okay, it's okay

by dragon_rider



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-28
Updated: 2013-12-28
Packaged: 2018-01-06 12:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1106686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider/pseuds/dragon_rider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nyota thought being in love suited Jim—perhaps not as much as being a Captain of a starship did, but it was a close thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's okay, it's okay, it's okay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Surfaced](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Surfaced/gifts).



> So this sucks but this ship is too lonely for me not to post it so. Um. Sorry? Enjoy?
> 
> Also, it won't make any sense unless you've read [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/759168).

She traced his jawline with her fingertips slowly, watching his reaction closely and trying to coax something out of him that she knew he never allowed himself to do.

Nyota wanted him to cry. She’d done that already in his arms down in the planet surface as they watched the rest of the away team burn to death. Even in his own shock, Jim had been strong enough to comfort her, his warmth the only thing that would prevent her from having nightmares about flames and shrieking, from gagging whenever she smelled something being cooked with heat.

Spock had warned her about this. He’d told her how Jim barely let a sob escape from his throat as he gripped the clothes of the man he’d come to appreciate as the father he never had, confided in her how shocked and impressed he’d been of Jim’s composure, of how quickly he’d stood up and resumed his job.

She remembered how she had tried to get him to admit how he really felt, how quick he’d been to dismiss her concern.

It was—and this was something she didn’t want to think about too closely, because she’d end up mad at something that had happened already and left awry consequences, consequences she wanted to fix and being upset would only impede her from doing that—as if Jim thought he wasn’t allowed to hurt, as if he deemed himself worthless of comfort.

The stuttered breaths, the quiet gasps that slipped from him that he kept trying to fight down told her that much. His eyes widening and closing tightly whenever she touched him, caring and deliberate, confirmed it.

And maybe someday she’d get the whole story, find out why and how Jim learned to bottle pain and heartache up until it transformed into rage and tenacity and he could swing punches and forget about all the tears that were clotting inside and making that only outlet Jim allowed for them get more unpredictable and unsteady with each blow his heart took.

“It’s okay,” she said, her lips brushing his hairline and her hand carding through the short hairs of his nape as she spoke, “I won’t tell, Jim. It’ll be our secret.” _Please. Please, trust me. Stop doing this to yourself._  
Jim took a shuddering breath, blue eyes wide and jumbled as he broke apart enough to look at her, brow furrowed as he scrutinized her features. “Nyota? I don’t—I don’t understand. Do you want me to break down? Why? That won’t change anything, won’t help at all—“  
“It would help _you_ ,” she cut in, her voice sharp, “You’re the one who matters right now, Jim,” he shook his head and it was hard to stop her fingers from jerking in frustration, but she managed, kept them gentle and reassuring in his scalp and his face, “You matter to _me_. You’re important, what you _feel_ is important. I don’t want you to ignore it. You shouldn’t have to, Jim. There’s no weakness in hurting. I know you knew everyone who died by name, that you wanted to know more about them but didn’t have time. I know you feel guilty, responsible—“  
“I _am_ responsible—I’m the Captain!” he snapped, letting go of her as if he suddenly recognized a threat to his poorly maintained poise. He stood up and started pacing. She let him, getting to her feet and following him with a calm expression on her face, “Can’t you see I could’ve done something different to stop that from happening? Can’t you see it’s me who always screws up somehow?”  
“How?” she asked, reaching for his hands and not letting go even though he flinched at the gentle touch and the question. She waited until he was looking at her in the eyes again to continue, “How could you have made something different to stop any of that from happening? Can you control the weather, divine fortune? When did you screw up, exactly? I was there, and I missed it. All I saw was you trying to soothe them in their final moments even when they kept attacking you.”

He gaped, speechless, and she gripped the back of his neck again, guiding him down as she stood in the tip of her toes and nuzzled his cheek. She smiled on his skin when his hands returned to her waist, his touch invalidating his reputation because it was nothing but tender and sweet, just as the kisses he never rushed unless she did it first.

He was trembling a bit. She took it as a good sign.

“It’s okay,” she repeated.

This time, he didn’t say anything. He looked at her, eyes so bright it seemed they were stealing light from the stars behind him, and let her hold him.

***

He was hesitant and quiet when they reached his quarters. She shooed him to the bathroom, convincing him of taking a shower—alone, she clarified when he licked his lips and stared at her—and called Dr. McCoy to let him know they’d be taking the two-days leave he’d suggested after reluctantly clearing them for duty.

“ _Is he okay?_ ” he asked, worry quietening his tone but thickening his accent, “ _He’s gonna beat himself over this for a long time. He always does._ ”  
She sighed, wishing he wasn’t so right about that. “No, but he will be.”

***

Jim gazed back at her over his shoulder, questioning and almost challenging as he put on sweatpants and a t-shirt. Nyota watched him, unrepentant, but did nothing to come closer to him. They’d have time for that later. She wasn’t going to let him use the same coping techniques he’d always used.

She patted the bed next to her and waited until Jim sat there to start unlacing her boots, looking at him from the corner of her eyes. She could tell he was drained, even if he hadn’t shed a tear.

It didn’t bother her, not reaching her goal. He was calmer. His shoulders were slumped and he kept scratching his side absent-mindedly, short nails unenthusiastically trying to scrape his skin, but his breathing was quiet and regular and he seemed to have accepted she wasn’t going to leave him alone, had stopped looking like she could disappear any second if he blinked long enough.

The edge of desperation and self-destruction wasn’t there anymore. She hoped it was her words he was hearing over and over, that he wasn’t repeating _it’s my fault, it’s all my fault_ in his head like a poisonous mantra.

She kissed him once, barely dragging her lips on his in a quick caress, before tugging the hem of the loose t-shirt he was wearing. “Take this off for me, okay?” she asked. He frowned, confused, but did as he was told, and she tapped his nose lightly with a finger before he could get the wrong idea, “We’re going to get some sleep.”  
“Okay,” he said, dazedly, “Sleep. Right. Let’s do that,” he winced at his own phrasing and Nyota laughed. There was nothing wrong with it, but he was so nervous, “I mean—“  
“I know what you mean.”

She unfastened her dress and her bra, letting the clothing fall to the floor. She was giving Jim her back, but could feel his eyes on her and she looked over her shoulder, just as he had done, before putting on his t-shirt and walked to him.

She let him undo her ponytail and enjoyed the way he smoothed her hair down. When his thumbs caressed her cheeks slowly, his eyes tracing the movement of his fingers with awe before fixing them in her own, a small smile forming on his lips, she felt her heart racing and her breath catching in her lungs. The motion was so thoughtful, so _thorough_ she knew without a doubt it was something he’d imagined doing for a long time, probably all the years he spent thinking his feelings would never be returned and that they were something else he was meant to keep hidden, another thing he wasn’t allowed to feel, that wasn’t needed or expected from him.

She remembered how sure she’d been the first time she saw him that he was nothing but the dumb hick he pretended to be.

She’d never been so wrong in her life.

It was his turn to laugh. “What?” he gave her a small kiss, cocking his head to the side when she didn’t react and kept staring, “You know, you looked funny at first, but now you’re scaring me. What is it? Am I—“ he glanced at his hands resting lightly on her hips as she straddled him, “Am I doing something wrong?”  
She shook her head, kissed him soothingly. “No,” she said, pushing him to lie on his back and curling on his chest, smiling and kissing his neck as they settled for the night, “You’re doing perfect. Good night, Jim.”  
She felt him inhaling deeply, chin firmly tucked on her head before replying. “Good night.”

Nyota thought being in love suited Jim—perhaps not as much as being a Captain of a starship did, but it was a close thing.

She let him do the holding that night, hoping he’d be ready to be held and taken care of for a little longer than the hour they’d spent in the observation deck soon.


End file.
